


(Un)Common

by meansovermotive



Series: Birds of a feather [1]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: F/M, Heart-to-Heart, Introspection, Post-Troubled Blood, Reflection, Romance, Troubled Blood Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:27:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27143128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meansovermotive/pseuds/meansovermotive
Summary: "I was thinking of what brought us together from the first, what links us so closely to one another..." (Ibsen, Rosmersholm / LW Ch. 41, epigraph)Strike and Robin have a heart-to-heart, sort of, in the Land Rover.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Series: Birds of a feather [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2175237
Comments: 28
Kudos: 48





	(Un)Common

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> What started with a Striketober prompt and a question represented by the quote above turned into almost 4k words that kept me occupied for the past week. I felt like it didn't really fit there anymore, so here it is.
> 
> Read if you're in the mood for a long, sort of deep talk... 
> 
> Also, again - rubbish at titles. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!

“Sure looks like we’re going to be here a while” said Strike, staring at the door of the three-story building he and Robin were watching out from the Land Rover.

Concentrated as he had been, when he turned to look at her a moment later, he was startled to realize that she had been staring at him, a strange expression on her face.

She quickly look away, and he frowned.

“Is everything okay?” he asked carefully.

“Yeah”, Robin said. And then, turning back at him, “I was just… thinking.”

“What about?”

She looked away again.

“Matt’s baby was born yesterday.”

“Oh”, he said. _Shit._ “Are you okay?” he asked in a quiet voice.

“I am, actually”, said Robin, frowning. “That’s just the thing, though.”

Strike frowned.

“What do you mean?”

She turned back at him.

“Do you remember what I told you that night after Oakden’s interview?” Strike’s stomach churned at the many different turns the conversation might take. She continued, “When you asked me if I wanted to have kids?”

 _Ah. That._ “Yeah. I do”, he responded instead.

“That night”, said Robin, “remembering what I used to imagine my life would be like… It occurred to me how much of Matt’s ideas I had let infiltrate in my own visions of the future.”

Strike was silent, watching her. She again looked out the window.

“And I realized it was all so... ordinary. It suddenly didn’t make any sense to me. But that _was_ Matt, what he was like. It struck me how much he and I didn’t really have anything in common – and yet, for a long time, I’d been sure we had. And I know what… happened… to me had a lot to do with it, but…”

She was silent for a moment, and then turned to him decidedly.

“What do you suppose you and I have in common? Besides the job, I mean?”

Strike stared at her, his mouth slightly aghast, wondering whether her purpose with this question was indeed what it looked liked.

As if reading his thoughts, Robin continued, a bit anxiously,

“It’s not-- I don’t mean it _like that,_ it’s –“ she sighed. “I’ve just been wondering, Cormoran. I mean, we both obviously have a passion for this job, for investigative work - and I know that _that_ is a thing I already liked before, but… besides that…” She paused. “Did you get along great with your partners at the SiB?” she asked suddenly.

Strike, who was at a complete loss as to where she was going with this conversation, frowned, thinking.

“Ah… it depends. Some of them, yeah” he said, confused.

“I actually mean… as great as we do?” she asked, a slight flush in her cheeks.

Strike snorted. 

“Hell, no”, he said. “Robin, I’ve never gotten along with _anyone_ better than I do with you. SiB or otherwise”.

Robin, her neck and cheeks now decidedly flushed, decided to reserve his words and the feelings they elicited for her to examine later. Feigning an unabashed tone, she continued,

“Exactly. So. What do you suppose you and I have in common, then?”

Strike raised his eyebrows, something beginning to click in his brain.

“I promise I will share my thoughts in a moment”, he said. “But first, would you care to share what’s actually going on there?” he said, tilting his head in her direction and cocking his eyebrow with a subtle grin.

A quick smile passed Robin’s lips, before she looked away again, taking a breath.

“Okay. Here’s a thought”, she said. “What if… I am doing the same thing again, Cormoran? What if _we_ also don’t actually have that much in common and I’m just, I don’t know… _absorbing_ who you are like I did with Matt? What if _that’s_ what I actually am – someone who just goes on morphing myself into whoever I am closest to, at the moment?” She blushed, realizing how her words implied that she had at some point felt closer to Strike than to her own husband.

Strike stared at her, incredulous and horrified.

“Robin, I… Did I ever give you any reason to feel like that?” he asked, his stomach churning at the thought that he might have pressured her, even if unintentionally, to become someone she was not.

Realizing the implications of her words, Robin rushed to correct him.

“No, Cormoran, that’s not – _You_ never did anything, honestly. What I’m saying is, what if it wasn’t only Matt’s fault, all that time, but me who allowed him to do that? And what if I’m doing that now, thinking that I’m finally ‘ _finding myself’_ , when…” she let the thought go uncompleted.

Strike was studying her, his brows knitted together, trying to organize his thoughts around her question, and feeling still a bit unsure about what she’d said. Robin, meanwhile, seemed to regret her words. Sighing, she said,

“I’m sorry, Cormoran. I know that… that you’re probably not the best person to bring these worries to. It’s just that… well. You’re also exactly the person whose opinion on this matters most to me. Does that make any sense?” she asked, frowning and blushing a little.

Feeling a tinge of pride and at last placated by her words, he said,

“Yeah. Yeah, I think it does, Robin.” He looked ahead for a moment. “Look”, he started. “I have my opinions on the subject. But I think the biggest point here is… how do you feel about both situations?” She frowned. “I mean, when you think of yourself before you started at the agency, and now”, he continued, “how do you compare them, in regards to your… individuality? D’you think it’s the same thing?” he asked, rolling down the window to light up a cigarette.

Robin considered his question for a moment.

“No”, she said, shaking her head. “Not really, no, when you put it like that. Even if I didn’t see it then, looking back… I can still recall that feeling of feeling _pushed_ , you know? Here, and there, little nudges to make me conform, give up certain things…” she paused. “Whereas, now…”

“Your only problem is a bastard of a partner who expects you to clean up after him because you’re a woman?” said Strike, and Robin looked at him, startled, only to notice he was grinning.

“Cormoran, you know that—“

“Nope”, he said, shaking his head. “I _was_ kidding, just now, but you were right that night – and I don’t think I’ve properly apologized for _that_. I’m sorry, Robin. I’ve put expectations on you that I shouldn’t have, and I’m seriously, honestly sorry about it”. He paused to blow off smoke through the window, and looked at her again. “And if what you’re telling me about is in anyway a consequence of those expectations, I want you to know that I have no intention of repeating it going forward. And that if I ever do, tosser that I am, you need to call me out on it.”

Robin stared at him, speechless for a moment, and then swallowed.

“Thanks, Cormoran. It really means a lot”, she said, genuinely touched. “But it’s honestly… not that, I think”, she said, frowning. “Even if I’ve felt some of those expectations from you” he winced at that, and she added, “well – no point saying I didn’t, but even you acknowledging that goes to show how it’s not the same thing, doesn’t it? No”, she added decidedly, shaking her head, “it’s not the same kind of pressure at all. Like I said that night, when I do those things, even when for my own sake I shouldn’t, it’s still _me, my choice_. What I was going to say before was that… now, I do feel free. I don’t ever feel, really, pressure to be someone I’m _not…_ ”

He smiled.

“Glad to know that, R’bin. I really mean it, though” he added, in a serious tone. “If you feel there’s pressure on you in the agency in anyway, from me or anyone… we’ll address it, okay? That’s the literal last fucking thing I want, for you to feel in any way like that twat made you feel, I swear.” He paused, before continuing carefully, “But you should never think that it was in any way your fault, that you let it happen because you weren’t being your own person, or some shit like that. You know…it takes time sometimes, as I can certainly tell from experience, to understand the extent of the fuck up someone we once trusted may have done to us.” He paused again, and continued in a quieter voice, “The way I see it…You trusted him, and he took your vulnerability and exploited it. And that, in no way, can be your fault” he concluded, gently.

She sighed, wiping the tears that had sprung in the corner of her eyes.

“Yeah. You’re right, Cormoran, I know. I’m still assimilating all of that, I guess... but I do know. Thank you, though” she said, her voice tinged with emotion.

He nodded before continuing,

“Besides, you’d have to be nuts to think that of yourself. You’re no ordinary person, Ellacott. Never doubt that.”

She smiled at him.

“I guess you’re somewhat distinct, yourself, Strike.”

They smiled at each other for a moment.

“So”, said Robin. “Is that why we get along, then, you think? We’re both… uncommon?” she asked, raising her eyebrow.

“Nutheads, you mean?” and she laughed. “In a way, yeah, I guess. We’re both making our own way, eh? Kind of different from everybody else.”

Robin frowned.

“Yeah”, she said. “My cousin told me I was ‘going in a different direction’ than everybody else. Took me a while to realize she actually meant… _backwards_.”

“Bollocks”, said Strike, blowing off smoke. “See, that’s exactly what I mean. _Backwards_. Look at you now. Better investigator than many officers with decades of experience.” She glowed at him. “And it’s not just that, either” he continued. “People just get everything wrong. They live by other people’s expectations, like you fill a fucking checklist for life and that means you’ve had a worthy life” he said, waving his cigarette. “That’s just nonsense”, he concluded, stubbing it out.

“I completely agree”, said Robin, nodding. “That is something that bothered me about Matt, once I realized how much he guided his life around what other people consider _‘right’_ , or _‘normal’_. And that is so strange a concept, for me. Does it _really_ make sense for everyone to have the same purpose in life? I mean, if we don’t find meaning in life _for ourselves_ , doesn’t it defeat the whole point?”

Strike looked at her, seeming impressed.

“Yeah, I think it does”, he said. “Not everyone gets it, though. That’s why it’s so difficult for people to understand why I would drop out of Oxford or leave the SiB, or you…”

“Give up a marriage and a conventional career”, Robin completed.

He nodded.

“Yeah”.

“But for me, there’s something else, too”, Robin added, after a moment. “I’ve been thinking lately about the difference between what we _do_ and what we _are_ … Well, you know that, it’s exactly what started this conversation, right? Anyway, what I mean is, I’m completely happy with the job, I really do feel like I found my purpose… But _besides_ that… I also feel like it allowed me the opportunity to change myself, to grow, and _that_ matters to me just as much. As much as I feel that I’m _doing_ something that matters, it wouldn’t really be enough for me if I felt like I was stuck as a person, you know, as who I _am_ ”.

Strike was silent for a moment, lightning another cigarette.

“Yeah”, he finally said. “I’ve noticed that about you. That’s another proof, by the way, of what I said. I’ve told you, actually putting the work to change yourself, that’s exceptional. Most people don’t like to change. I used to hate it, myself.”

Robin frowned at him.

“Used to?”

“Yeah, well. Still not really big on it, to be honest. But I’ve started to come around to the idea”, he said, rubbing his stub.

“Oh? What’s changed your mind?”

He turned to her.

“You, actually”.

Robin’s eyes widened.

“Cormoran, I… I never wanted to change you, either” she said, worried. “Did I…Oh.” She paused. “Do you mean that night at Valentine’s day?”

He tilted his head.

“Yes… and no. I know you’ve never tried and change me, Robin. That’s one thing we have in common, then, to answer your question - I mean, if you say so yourself, that I’ve never done it to you either. I appreciate that, you know. Only bloody woman who I don’t feel suffocated around, to be honest…” he said, taking a drag at his cigarette.

“Well”, said Robin, blushing again. “I don’t know about that. I mean, we did just discuss my complaints to you that night.”

Strike considered that.

“Yeah”, he said slowly. “It did surprise me then. Thought you were acting like everybody else.” She raised her eyebrows. “But”, he continued, “I was pissed. Later I realized there’s a difference.”

She frowned, waiting. He let out smoke through the window.

“You weren’t trying to change me. You were only asking for some respect, which you _bloody deserve_ , because you do respect me. You’re perfectly well with me being who I am, as long as I’m not being an arse” he said, grinning at her, and she laughed. “And in that case, I realized… a little change may prove good, eh?” he said, raising his eyebrows.

Robin was again surprised, at his consideration and at what sounded like a somewhat different Strike than the one she's known thus far.

“I think, too”, she said, smiling and looking at him with a curious expression. “And I like the way you said it. I suppose changing in that way… is more like changing _into_ ourselves, isn’t it? Like, I don’t feel I’m trying to become somebody else, but that I’m trying to… embody myself. Or, become the best version I can be – not for other people’s benefit, though, but my own. Does that make any sense?”

Strike looked at her, his eyebrows raised.

“Aren’t you full of wisdom”, he said, smiling. “Yeah… you know, I actually like that idea, Robin. I think you’ve just sold me a bit more on it.”

“Good, then”, said Robin. “I think I’ve had my fair share of _arse-Strike_ for a good while” she said, smirking, and he laughed heartily.

They were silent a moment, until Robin asked,

“About that checklist thing, though, Cormoran… Do you really think we have our priorities in a better place? Aren’t we just following our goals, trying to accomplish things with the agency, like everybody else?”

Strike considered that for a moment, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Let me ask you this”, he said. “Forget for a moment about the agency. You have now solid skills and a sound reputation. You could get a well-paying job for some company, if you wanted. Say, corporate espionage, that stuff. You’d still be doing investigative work, and earning shitloads more. How’d you feel about that?”, he asked, secretly curious about her response, even though he suspected what it would be.

Robin frowned.

“That…doesn’t appeal to me at all”, she said, honestly.

He grinned.

“Right. Why?”

“Well, it would seem so… pointless. What would I even be doing that for? So a few white collar man can earn even more money?”

“Fair point”, he said. “Only, what can be more pointless than finding proof of an affair? We do pointless stuff all the time. You don’t seem to mind”. He raised one eyebrow.

“Well, no”, said Robin, “Because I know that eventually, we’ll do one that really matters”.

Strike’s grin grew wider.

“Exactly. Which proves that you use your passion on service of your purpose, and not the other way around”, he concluded with a shrug.

“Huh”, said Robin, thinking. “Yeah, I suppose you are right. And, of course, you’re the same way…” She turned to him. “Cormoran, I never actually asked you, but I always wondered… you leaving Oxford…”

He nodded, looking ahead and blowing off smoke.

“Yeah. It was after my mother’s death. I guess you could say I was suddenly filled with a thirst for justice”.

Robin snorted.

“Yeah”, she said, “Turns out, we _are_ alike, after all” she said, smiling at him.

Strike, however, remained serious, his gaze intent on her, and soon she felt herself blushing again.

“We are, Robin. I’ve considered that before, you know. It’s not only the job. We…” he looked ahead again, frowning slightly. “We see the world in the same way – a way that doesn’t revolve around what other people think, but what _we_ feel is right. We have similar values, similar priorities. The same purpose on life, the same passion for it.” He turned to her again. “Perhaps most importantly”, he added, “I’d say, although I cannot speak for you…the same appreciation and respect for the person we share it with.”

Robin took a few moments to recover from the effect his words caused on her. Once again wiping tears in the corner of her eyes, she finally said,

“You, Strike”, she said, “Are, indeed, infuriating.” He raised his eyebrows. “It’s not bloody fair that you’re able to use words like that, when you barely use the ability”. He grinned, and she continued, in a softer tone, “Of course you’re right, Cormoran. You know that I feel the same, don’t you?” she asked, and he nodded, silently. “Thank you, though. For telling me that. And for… making me see all of this. It’s so obvious, when you put it like that, I… can’t believe I didn’t, before”, she said, frowning.

“Yeah, I suppose we get wrapped up in our heads, sometimes. But I’m serious, Ellacott” he said, looking at her, “Never doubt it”.

She smiled at him.

“Which only goes to show”, he added, “how bloody lucky I was when ‘temporary solutions’ send you my way. Finding someone with that kind of kinship, honestly… is rare”.

“Yeah”, agreed Robin. “It really is…”

She stayed silent, wondering whether to bring up the thought that had crossed her mind. But, surely, if they were best friends…?

“Cormoran”, she said, “do you think it’s possible that…we’ll find someone _else_ who we share this kind of connection with? Well, work-context excluded, of course…Uh, what I mean is…”

Strike sighed, stubbing his cigarette out.

“Yeah, I know what you mean”, he said.

He paused for a moment, wondering just which level of honesty to apply in his answer, before finally deciding on being… _almost_ completely honest.

“Look, Robin. I’m sure you could find a decent guy, that would truly appreciate you and understand your career, if that’s what you wanted – even though, whether he would be deserving of you, that honestly feels like a tall order” he said, and she blushed. “But to be completely honest with you… like I said, it’s rare. I’m not even talking about the particularities of the job, but this shared vision, you know? Fucking rare. I’m not saying _you_ _won’t_ , see” he added, raising his eyebrows at her, “what I’m saying is… from my perspective, I… don’t really expect that _I_ will.”

Robin’s eyes widened at his words. The newfound peace she’d had only a few moments ago was suddenly disrupted - not only, if she was honest with herself, at his saying that she _could_ find someone _else_ , but at the weight of reality that his words seemed to carry. It was indeed, thought Robin, highly unlikely. A bolt doesn’t strike twice, like they say.

“I suppose you’re right”, she said, slowly. “And that’s… Well, that’s actually sad, Cormoran, don’t you think?” she looked at him, frowning. “I mean, I am absolutely grateful for what we have, and like you said, we both know that with this job, anyway, well… that sort of thing will hardly be front and center for either of us, right? But still…” She paused. “I mean, we’ve both been in serious and long – _too_ long – relationships” she continued, and the implication of her opinion about his relationship with Charlotte did not escape Strike. “So it’s not like something we’ve never wanted, or never experienced before, which might make it easier for us to never actually miss it…” She said all this in a thoughtful voice, like she was talking more to herself than to him. “Anyway”, she said, turning to him, “What I mean to say is… knowing finally what’s like to be really seen and understood, I suppose I just find it sad that we might never find this with somebody else.”

She did indeed feel quite sad. Despite how much she valued her partnership with Cormoran - and despite knowing that her priorities lied foremost on the career that so much meant to her, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would mean for other areas of her life…

“Maybe, though”, Strike suddenly interrupted her thoughts, his voice quiet and deliberate, like he was taking a final breath before parachute jumping, “we might not need to”.

Robin turned to him, startled as though she had indeed just been hit by lightning – ironically, by a second time, the night in which Cormoran mentioned Ilsa’s matchmaking being the first. Her mouth slightly opened, she saw that Strike was looking at her intently, a strange expression on his face.

 _What exactly does that mean_ , wondered Robin. Was he merely suggesting that the job, and their partnership, might provide enough fulfillment that he – and maybe Robin, as well – no longer would feel the need for that kind of connection in a romantic relationship, or…

 _Or,_ she thought, what he meant, like it very well seemed that he did, was that he thought they might not need to look _elsewhere_ for that…

The silence stretched for a moment that seemed to contain the gravity of a dwarf star, where they merely looked at each other -- Strike waiting desperately for her to say something, anything, Robin much too shocked to react in time.

Finally, he opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say was interrupted by the sound of a car door being slammed – a car that, Strike realized with no small amount of regret, belonged to the very same man they were surveilling.

He swallowed and nodded his head in the direction of the car leaving its parking spot.

“Uh, I suppose we better..” he said, weakly.

“Yeah. Yeah. We’d better” Robin said, still shaken.

After she maneuvered the car and was on the trail of the car ahead, she finally broke the charged silence that had been filling all the space between them for those few minutes.

“I think you’re right, you know”, she said quietly, and he turned to her sharply. “Maybe we won’t”.

He grinned at her, relieved, and she too had a smile in the corner of her lips, her eyes on the road.

They fell in companionable silence, each preoccupied with thoughts about things said and unsaid -- but still, both filled with the hopeful feeling that comes with a promise.

**Author's Note:**

> Struggled a bit with this one!  
> Mostly I wanted to explore the question of what they have in common, but once I arrived at why Robin would ask that, it was like pulling out a thread and out came things about that, the changes they go through in TB, and of course, the logical question: can they find something like that with someone else..? You know the drill. hahaha
> 
> I would love to read your thoughts about this question of what they have in common, though! I've tried it here but it's honestly so much ground to cover... I find it a really interesting subject. 
> 
> I did rewrite it a bit so that it would reflect more what I think their opinions would be, and not mine lol so hope I got close, and also, that it didn't get super confusing in the process because I altered the original order of some bits, etc.
> 
> I'm also not usually partial to writing Strike 'explaining' things for Robin, rather the other way around - however I find that JK sometimes uses one to put some sense into the other and vice-versa. I feel like he got the reality check in TB, and Robin may be up for her turn. And even though (cannon) Strike can be a stubborn arse, I sometimes find him surprisingly insightful and wise, even. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy it!


End file.
